Vox Populi
by Achieving Elysium
Summary: Vox populi. The voice of the people. Reyna, praetor of the Twelfth Legion, must listen to her people to truly be a leader. One-shot.


**Vox Populi **

* * *

_This is a call to __arms,_

* * *

**I**

Reyna stood in front of a temple. It loomed tall over her, and it was as grand as grand could be. A statue of Bellona regarded her coldly. She knew her mother could be a gentle, loving parent one day, and the next day she could be a regal, commanding warrior. She shook her thoughts away. This was not a time for her thinking, for her decisions.

She hefted the Imperial Golden spear into the air. It shone so brightly it seemed to give off it's own light. The metal was cool against the skin of her hand. She looked at her people, _her _people, the people who she had grown up with, had made friends and enemies with, the people whom she had gained their respect, and vice versa. Her eyes scanned the faces, some eager, some confident, some lacking. But her own face was impassive.

"Vox populi."

The two words rang through the air, crisp and clear though she spoke quietly. It cut through the air like a knife, and the crowd shifted.

"Vox populi," she repeated, "The voice of the people."

She let out a yell. "Do you want war?"

Together the people stood. And together they answered.

"Immo!" _Yes. _

The spear was thrown. War was declared. The _graecus _would fall, and they themselves would rise.

* * *

_gather soldiers._

* * *

**II**

She swung her sword, over and over again. Reyna cut through monsters.

"Jason!" she called.

"Jason," she called again.

"Over here, Rey!" he yelled, and Reyna swung around towards the source of his voice.

She ran towards him. Halfway through, a Hyperborean giant roared at her friend, Gwen.

"Oh, no, you don't!" she screamed and scaled the giant's back. She stabbed it just in time and rolled off like she'd practiced as it turned into ice chunks.

"Thanks, Reyna," Gwen said to her as she stabbed an empousa, "Now go find Jason before he gets reckless!"

Reyna nodded and resumed her barrel run. She crashed straight into him.

"Jason," she gasped.

His arms encircled her for a second.

"We have to get to Mount Tam," she whispered, "We have to take down the biggest threat."

"But-"

"They're dead!" Reyna screamed at him. "They're dead, and only we can save our home."

"They are?" Jason asked, his voice full of disbelief.

"Please, Jason," she begged, "I don't care if I'm hurt. I want to kill them, to avenge the praetors' death and save our home."

He looked at her. "Let's go."

The two ran up, not away from the Titans that could kill them, but towards.

Jason stopped outside. "Reyna..."

"We can do this. We can do anything together."

"Yeah, yeah, we can."

"We will, won't we?"

"Rey, we-"

Before he could finish, she grabbed his shirt and kissed him, then ran to face her fate.

They stood together. Reyna, her clothes shredded, though armor intact, and Jason, his clothes bloody and stained, his hand in hers.

People cheered. Reyna blinked at the cheering people. Her leg still hurt like Tartarus, she was tired, and she wanted to collapse, but she stood. Something, some shift had occurred when they had fought Krios and won. Together. She didn't know what, though.

And then someone pounded a shield against the ground, then another, then all the Cohorts, and as one, giant, living creature, they yelled.

"Ave! Hail!"

And they were lifted upon the sea of shields and hands raised by the survivors of a war.

Jason and Reyna were no longer soldiers. They were praetors. And Reyna liked it way just fine.

* * *

_Time to go to war_

* * *

**III**

Jason whirled around in his swivel chair. The two were currently sitting in the office of the Via Principia. Reyna sighed and scribbled a signature. Without looking up, she grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. A muffled _oomph _and a crash told her she had succeeded in her task.

"Rey, loosen up," he said.

"I can't!" she yelled, "These are to be presented tommorow, and it has to be done, and after this, we have to count the private ballot-"

She stopped when he kissed her.

After a second, she pushed him away and skimmed over a security design.

He sat down next to her, and they studied the fortress blueprint. The blueprint showed the new defense that were to be set up if the vote pertained. She pointed out flaws, and he gave solutions.

Reyna sighed again, "It's not our choice, anyway."

She tucked a curl back behind her ear and leaned back in the plush chair. She could feel Arum and Argentum poking their noses to the side of her leg. Four red eyes stared at her. Her hand reached down and scratched behind their ears.

She picked up the _no _box and counted the slips.

"Three hundred, twenty-one. Three hundred, twenty-two."

She paused to yawn.

"You?" she asked.

"Three hundred," he yawned, too, "sixteen."

"Guess it's time to have new defenses," Jason said.

Reyna yawned again. "Well, _I _think it's time to sleep. Bye!"

She left with thoughts of a new fortress and deciding guard duty on her mind.

* * *

_This is a battle song,_

* * *

**IV**

"Shut. Up!" Reyna shouted, slamming her palms on the flat table.

"Jason isn't dead!" someone else yelled.

"Yeah, Octavian!" someone else shouted. Almost at once, the opinions of the declaration were thrown around. Reyna rubbed her temples and took a swig of coffee. She'd been living off coffee for the past few days, and the shouting did not help her mood.

"Silence!" she called out. The shouting ceased. "Octavian, Jason is not dead. So until you can give me solid proof -meaning a body- Jason isn't dead."

"In fact, why don't we have a vote?" she asked. Venom dripped from her voice.

Centurions sat and looked at each other. There seemed to be a thick cloud of stress around all of them.

She knew how they felt. Jason Grace, son of Jupiter, praetor of the Twelfth Legion Fulminata, had gone missing. Poof, right under their noses. One day doing normal praetor-ean duties, the next vanished in midair. She didn't know how much longer she could take it. She tossed two jelly beans under the table for her dogs. There was an aching hole in her chest, and no matter how hard she tried, it wouldn't go away. Reyna knew it only would when he came back. But Octavian's statement about the decision of proclaiming Jason dead had been the last straw for a volcano that had been ready to erupt.

"We will vote," she said, glaring at Octavian, "about this-this _statement _of yours- to do it or not." She glared at the floor, then looked up and meet his gaze. Her eyes were filled with hate.

"All in favor of proclaiming Praetor Jason Grace dead?" she spat out.

Three hands raised.

"All in favor of not proclaiming Praetor Jason Grace dead?" she asked.

Sixteen hands raised.

A cool relief spread through her. She wouldn't have to deal with a proclaimed-dead Jason _or _Octavian in the empty seat next to her.

She stood up.

"Meeting adjourned. Jason Grace will not be proclaimed dead."

Reyna turned her head and walked away, her two loyal automatons right at her heels.

* * *

_brothers and sisters._

* * *

**V**

The Athena Parthenos stood in between them. Minerva's -Athena, she reminded herself- statue was tall and regal, or as Ella had once said 'gold and pale'. The giants' bane. Which giants? Red stained the grass. The field reeked of death on both sides, the water tainted with a centuries-old feud. On one side were the Greeks. On the other, the Romans. And in the middle, the Seven (or five as she now noticed) were a mix of Roman and Greek.

"Hear me out!" Jason cried.

"I was, for brief times, a leader of both camp. I know people on both sides, and I know that we should not be fighting." Murmurs spread like wildfire.

"I know we are different-the Romans bring an order and peace to the Earth, the Greeks bring home and freedom. I know we have been fighting, but I know many of you do not wish to. Romans!" he turned his gaze to them, "Are you not ashamed? You are attacking the innocent. They did nothing to you, yet you try to burn down their home? Greeks! Are you not ashamed, either, for the bodies littering the ground are your own? But we have come bearing an offer. I may not be Roman to you, but Hazel and Frank still are."

Hazel stepped forward.

"Who is the leader of this camp?"

A curly-haired centaur made his way through the crowd. It was clear the other side respected him, for they parted was like how in the myths, Moses had parted the sea.

"I am Chiron," he spoke.

Reyna felt surprise creep up. Chiron was a centaur famous in legend and story, even in Rome where centaurs were hated.

"As a Roman, and as you are a Greek, I offer to you the Athena Parthenos as a symbol of unity and the end to a raging war."

"I accept your offer, Hazel Levesque, and I accept the Athena Parthenos as a symbol of unity and the end to the war between Rome and Greece."

Suddenly a boy no older than her called out, "Annabeth completed the quest of the Mark of Athena!" and a group of siblings cheered.

The Seven's (five) shoulders seemed to sag. She studied their faces. To read people was to survive. She noted a great burden had befallen their shoulders, and saw it deep in their faces and traced in their hearts like scars.

"We will be traveling to Greece to the original Mount Olympus. There the final battle will take place at the Doors of Death. I recommend meeting us there and I know that every single one of you will make a difference in the battle," Frank spoke up.

Reyna picked up a fallen spear and raised in the air without a sound.

The Romans stood together, making their choice.

"Do you want war?" she asked, once again. This time it wasn't against the Greeks. This time, it was against Terra.

They looked at each other. And they spoke as one.

"Immo!"

The spear was thrown, making a fresh scar in the dirt. Reyna looked at her people. They had made their choice to fight alongside the Greeks. She had listened to the voice of the people. Vox populi.

* * *

_Time to go to war _

* * *

**I worked on this for two hours. Two hours!**

**So I'd like a review, please.**

**Enjoy it? **

_Achieving Elysium_


End file.
